


Running.

by Lucy_Mariogld



Series: Married in red, Better off dead. [2]
Category: Beetlejuice - All Media Types, Beetlejuice - Perfect/Brown & King
Genre: Blood. Maybe, F/M, Friendship, Love, Marriage, On Hiatus, Romance, There will totally not be any murder, There's gonna be murder. sorry not sorry, beetlebabes
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-10-20
Updated: 2019-10-31
Packaged: 2020-12-24 20:21:45
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 6
Words: 5,760
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21105440
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Lucy_Mariogld/pseuds/Lucy_Mariogld
Summary: Beetlejuice and Lydia need to sort out their marriage problems before it all comes crashing down. With a year to do what their contract requires them to do, it’s difficult not to address the obvious elephant in the room.They’re technically not married.But without that confirmation of that marriage, they’ll both be stuck in limbo. It’s a rather sticky situation Beetlejuice had caused and Lydia is not happy what-so-ever with the task required.There’s blood that needs to be split and lives that need ending.





	1. Prologue

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The future holds the keys to the past.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N Please enjoy the second instalment of this strange and unusual story. Cover art included.
> 
> Edit; first chapter has been changed.

She shifted awake, staring at the ceiling above her. Lydia Deetz had woken up in the arms of someone, his tree-trunk forearms wrapped around her thin waist. Rubbing the marks on her skin she let loose a shallow sigh. The man beside her shifted slightly, his grip tightening to an uncomfortable level. Jeremy was his name but what had happened she’d rather not find out. How had she ended up in this situation? 

Lydia attempted to recall her previous night and how she had ended up in the arms of a stranger. A night of drinking where he had gotten drunk again. Against her judgement, he had  manipulated her in to bed. At twenty-one, Lydia didn’t think what was worse, accidentally waking up without much memory or the wrath she’d face when he would awake. 

She had to get out of the situation. Without trying to wake him, she slipped out of the bed covers, scrambling to find her clothing. Her attempts to flee caused him to open his eyes, grinning at her with a perverted look. She had once found comfort in those eyes and smile, yet all she saw were the horrors she had experienced with the person who had called himself her closest friend. 

She recoiled when he grabbed onto her skinny wrist. “Where ya going, girl?” His voice droned. “Did it hurt too much for yer virgin ass?”

She had the sudden realization that he wasn’t going to let her leave. Jerking her hand away, she spat in his face. “I’m leaving you sick bastard.” 

“Hey! C’mon! Don’t tell me you didn’t enjoy it!” Jeremy protested, rapidly getting up. The sheets dangled off of him, thankfully shielding her eyes from the rest of his body. He eased himself beside her, snaking a hand around her shoulders. “C’mon Lyds. You wanna go again?”

“I didn’t consent the first time and I don’t consent now.” She sharply snapped, jerking herself away. She felt the room darkening around them, a comforting and familiar presence seeping into the air. 

“Aw. Too scared for another fucking are ya? All you are is a stupid goth bitch. No one else will ever fuck you. So why give up on what you’ve got?” Jeremy shouted, slapping her across the face. Lydia raised a hand to the new mark, cheek burning in pain as an emotionless gaze stared at him.

She had had enough of him the moment he grabbed onto the strap of her bra. “C’mon. I’ll go easy on you this time, I-” There was a loud gurgle as a shinning silver object appeared in her grasp. A deep and hearty chuckle echoed in Lydia’s ears, mixing with the pained sounds of the dying man in front of her. 

Jeremy fell to the ground, pooling in his own blood. The knife in her grasp was lifted out as she glanced at it. There was blood spattered on her front. The shadow on the wall behind her opened its mouth with a crooked smile.

How Lydia Deetz had ended up like this, only a few souls knew, including the demon who lurked in her shadow. 


	2. I love you.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Back to where we left off.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N 10/21/2019; I recommend you go back and re-read the previous chapter due to editing.

Lydia Deetz stared at the man below her, his hand still upheld as he grasped the obsidian ring between his fingers. It seemed so trivial, so minor, that it wouldn’t have mattered what she said at that point. The wispy fall wind blew around them, Lydia shivering in the blanket wrapped around her. 

Beetlejuice was proposing to her.

And she didn’t know how to feel about. There was no crooked finger, no string attached. No ulterior motive. No Barbra in need of saving this time. He was genuinely proposing to her.

But then there was the crashing reality of their contract. The paperwork was still in her bedroom upstairs, ominous and foreboding. If she didn’t marry him, then would it mean for their friendship? Dying didn’t seem like much fun at this point. She had been desperate on that roof long ago. But things were different now. She knew what happened to those who died. 

There had been silence for longer than either of them expected.

“Lyds?” Beetlejuice questioned, looking at her frozen and blank expression. 

“I-” She muttered, pausing as she swallowed the lump in her throat. “I’m not so sure….”

The telltale sign of his sadness was obvious the moment his hair drifted to purple. He lowered his head, rising to his feet. “Oh,” He mumbled, turning away from her. 

“I’m sorry. It’s just that… I’m really worried about the contract.” Her eyes darted towards the ring for a second before resting on his face as she turned him around. “And I’ve sixteen. Beetlejuice, don’t you think it’s still crazy?”

“Lyds, everything is crazy with us. I mean it when I don’t wanna lose ya. I love ya too much to let ya go.” He had placed a hand against hers. He traced a free hand along her face before pecking her on the lips with a tender kiss.

“Yes. Yes, I’ll marry you… again.” She whispered, hand holding his with their chests flush against one another. Beetlejuice dipped her low with a zealous chuckle, holding her by the hip with his second hand snaking across her thigh. He passionately locked his mouth with her, the blanket sliding off in the process. When they separated, Lydia looked up at him with a sly smile.

“I love you,” He breathed, pink and grinning. “I’m gonna have a wife!” 

And then he kissed her again.


	3. Why should I, Lawrence?

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> People fight and people argue. And Parents look away when they refuse to accept the future.

Lydia stared at the paperwork littered before her, a sense of dread filling her bones. 

They were officially married.

It was difficult to believe at that point. They had gone and filled out the forms the moment she had said yes. Juno was probably pissed at the paperwork that now resided on her desk in the Neitherworld.

Beetlejuice sat beside her, on the table while looking equally as grim as her. “I can’t, Beej. I can’t do this,” She sighed, pushing it away from her. A dejected sigh echoed from her mouth as her face fell towards the table.

“God slash Satan, didja really think I wanted ya to get blood on yer hands, Lyds? That if I could, I’d do it fer ya?” Beetlejuice snapped, hand slamming against the table. “Ya know what they say, ‘_ don’t make deals with demons _.’”

“Oh. So it’s my fault now, is it?” She spat, jerking her head up with utter fiery blazing in her eyes. “Is that what you’re insinuating, _ husband _?”

“I wasn’t insinuatin’ shit, _ wifey _!”

“Yeah. Right. It’s not like-Mmmpf!” She was silenced by his mouth locking onto hers. He knew how to shut up her up now. He had pushed her upright in the process, the chair clattering to the ground as they kissed.

He slipped his tongue into her mouth, snaking it around her own. He didn’t taste like books this time, rather fresh mint, grave dirt and the strange taste of feathers with a metallic undertone. His taste itself was like an adventure each time. Beetlejuice wrapped his arms, bigger than her legs and thicker than her waist, around her. 

Beetlejuice’s scent was another story, smelling of rain, dirt and old musty books. He dipped her low and his snaked a hand under her skirt as it grasped her thigh. His other hand trailed under her shirt, his cold hand rested against her chest as it began to clutch around her breasts. Lydia let loose a startled yelp, recoiling as she pulled his hand away from her. They separated, a betrayed look plastering his face. He looked quite guilty as she stood there, red-faced. Beetlejuice looked horrified with himself, almost as if he forgot who he was with.

“Sorry, I didn’t-” He instantly spluttered out, pulling back from her as a hand trailed its way through his yellow hair. “I’m so stupid. Yer my wife but yer still a minor. I shouldn’t be doing that ta ya. I’m sorry.”

After an elongated silence between the two did Lydia speak up, her voice a ghostly whisper. “No. Don’t feel bad about it…”A blush had begun to pepper her cheeks before she turned back to the table, picking up the fallen chair. She eased herself back into it silently.

After an even longer silence, Beetlejuice spoke up while leaning against her shoulder. “I got ya this. Used to be my dad’s, I think. My mom didn’t tell me much ‘bout him.” He dangled the shiny looking knife in front of her as if he was a carrot. Lydia grabbed the handle, gripping it in her spindly fingers. It was rather plan minus the small engraved beetle in the copper handle. “So, who should we murder? It could be fun! Trust me. It’s like, not as fun as being scary but still pretty fun.” 

“I don’t want to murder anyone.” She quietly responded, shoulders slumping. 

“It’s part of the whole being married thing! I’ve got an idea! Why not get rid of that one soul who knows? What’s-her-name, Molly?” His mouth had split into a wicked smile, eyes glowing an eerie jade. Lydia paled instantly. She had made a grave mistake in trusting him. She had made a grave mistake in marrying him. And now she was actually going through with it. “C’mon Lyds. You’ve gotta get rid of someone. Without a tainted soul, you won’t be able ta see me again when ya finally kick the bucket.”

Why was she going through with this? Some unseen force was pushing her further into the deep end and part of her was enjoying it. Pursing her lips, she stiffened in his grip. She craned her head around to see him inches from her face. She looked at him, emotionless. 

“Why should I, _ Lawrence _?”

* * *

“Dad. I need to speak with you.” Lydia stated. She stood in the doorway of her father’s study, gripping onto the wooden door with a slight grimace. Lydia had desperately tried to cover the marks around her wrists, clearly fresh. She had to go through with this, one way or another. 

“What is it, Lydia? I’m busy right now.” Her father mumbled, looking up from his laptop with a frown.

“It’s about… Beetlejuice.” She sighed, taking a seat in one of his desk chairs. 

“He hasn’t-” Her father looked startled, eyes snapping away from his work instantly as he placed a hand on her own in concern.

“No. Nothing like that. It’s just… I recently discovered that we’re… officially marriage, by Neitherworld Law, and,” She interrupted yet paused, glancing down at her wrists. “ There’s no such thing as divorces in the Neitherworld.”

Her father remained silent, eyes shifting darkly as he seemingly processed the information. “Right… Thank you for telling me. I think I should get back to work.” He coldly responded, frowning as he did so. Lydia sighed, rising from her seat without another word and trudging out the door. Shutting the door behind herself, she traced a finger along the wall. 

What would have Dead Mom said about this situation? Beetlejuice was a violent and perverted monster but he was _ her _ monster. She’d give anything to get out of this house. It didn’t seem like home anymore. Stumbling to her room, she grabbed her book bag, stuffing her phone inside along with her camera. Her eyes lingered on the knife on her bed. 

In a split-second decision, she tossed the knife into the bag along with everything else. 

She needed an outing.


	4. I think I know who we should murder first.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> What always runs but never walks, often murmurs, never talks, has a bed but never sleeps, has a mouth but never eats?

Stumbling down the hill, Lydia hiked her bag up higher. Beetlejuice hadn’t followed her out. She hadn’t seen him since their minor disagreement earlier. She could swear he was off doing something, or _ someone _. 

It was a rather cold day, the end of October visible in the environment. The crisp leaves crunched underfoot as she trudged downwards. Lydia let loose a sigh, filled with frustration as she ran a couple digits through her hair. She swerved off the path, slowly walking into the woods. The air felt different here, less stuffy and filled to the brim with clutter like her house did. 

Before she knew it, she was at the bank of the river. Standing on the bank, she looked outwards before sitting down. She withdrew the ornate knife from her bag, turning it over in the palm of her hand. Why had Beetlejuice gifted her this of all things? A shiver trailed down her spine as the looming presence of something, or _ someone _, lurked behind her. She could hear the crunching of leaves, a duo of footsteps wandering past as two voices became clear. “-ugh, I can’t believe you wanted to go looking for stupid birds, Lara. Don’t you, like, wanna go shopping instead?” A sickeningly familiar voice spoke.

“I gotta get these photos for class, you know that, Claire. If it wasn’t for that stupid teacher, I wouldn’t have to.” A second voice echoed forward. Lydia almost dropped her bag into the swirling river as she jerked upright, spinning on her heels to see the two of them appearing in the clearing. “Oh. It’s _ you _.” Lara snarled upon seeing her. Claire Brewster and her best friend Lara stood at the edge of a tree nearby, their hot pink outfits ghastly bright against the orange foliage. 

“What are _ you _ doing here?” Claire snarled, raising her nose as she frowned upon Lydia. The horrid bitch had entered her area of solace. And Lydia was infuriated. 

“_ I _ am minding my own fucking buisness, Claire. Now, I suggest you leave me alone before-” She clutched her bag closely, knife still in her right hand.

“Before what? You’ll throw a couple more bugs at me? What happened to your supposed _‘ghost’_, huh? What are you going to do, you little _emo_ _whore?_” Claire retorted, smugly glaring at her. Lara let out a chortle along with her, the two of them sounding like cockatoos on helium. Before Lydia knew it, she was running forward, thrusting Beetlejuice’s knife forward until it was inches from Clarie’s main jugular. 

“_ Say that again. I dare you, Brewster _.” Lydia snarled, her voice threateningly quiet. Perhaps she had picked up a few violent traits from Beetlejuice. They were seemingly paying off now. They both let loose laughs as Lydia was pulled back by Lara, the two girls shoving her into the river as they tumbled around. She had forgotten how close she was to the river’s edge.

Absolute terror plastered her face as cold water flooded her senses. The world became a dark swirling mess as she was tossed and thrown along the rocky river floor. 

Rocks jabbed and sliced their way into her sides as her lungs burned for air. Her arms and legs stung from the new-found pain there. Scrambling to get to the surface, she felt her bag clunking against her, her camera probably damaged beyond repair at this point. 

She broke the surface once, screaming at the top of her lungs. “BEETLEJUICE!-” She was plunged back down, spinning around as her head slammed roughly against the edge. Bursting to the surface a second time, she belted out his name again. “BEETLEJUICE! BEETLE-” Her lungs struggled with the lack of oxygen as she was plunged back under, unable to break out a third time.

As quickly as she had been thrown in, she was dragged out, a concerned and familiar voice echoing in her ears as a cold touch held her closely. “-s! Lyds! C’mon! Breath!” She felt her body being dropped onto the ground, cold hands pressing against her chest and she sputtered out river water. As her vision began to return, she saw the unmistakable face of Beetlejuice above her. “Hey kid, don’t worry, I got ya. Decided to go fer a dip did ya?”

“God-” She paused, coughing out more water. They were further downstream, her soaked bag still hanging limpy beside her. Her many layers of black clothing had been drenched, the cold chill already seeping into the fabric. She probably looked like a drowned rat at this point. “-dammit! I-Where is it?” Lydia glanced at her hands, seeing the knife having vanished in the unexpected tumble. “I lost your knife, Beej. I-”

“Hey, calm down, Scarecrow. I’ve got it.” He held up the knife with slight amusement as he lowered it into the palm of her hand. He knelt down, placing a hand against her cheek. “I can’t have you going and getting all dead now, can I? Don’t scare me like that again, ya hear me?” Lydia had only just noticed the terrified colour of his hair, easing a hand through it as she did so.

“I promise. It wasn’t my fault, I swear, Claire Brewster and her friend threw me in when I threatened her.” She confessed, shivering. Her eyes grew wide, a hand darting towards her bag. “Oh no! My camera!” She pulled it out, the waterlogged device spilling water out. It was her digital one. Her analogue one was still in her room. The film that was always in her bag was floating inside her bag but otherwise undamaged. Her phone was another story. She fished it out, attempting to turn it on to no avail. “No. Not my phone too.” She let loose a grumble, leaning into Beetlejuice’s arms with dejection.

He had become silent, his hair flaring a dangerous red as he wrapped his arms around her. Beetlejuice lifted her up until she was flush with his own chest, her legs slipping over his thigh. “I think I know who we should murder first.”


	5. It’s nothin’, babes.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Everyone cares once and a while.

Beetlejuice scratched at his head, watching from a distance as Lydia trudged downhill. He felt, sorta guilty. Why? He had gotten everything he wanted and more. Was he slowly pushing her away like the Deetzs had in the past with her?

He loved Lydia. He could say that much. The little mortal had made him  _ different _ somehow.

After what seemed like hours, yet only minutes, did Beetlejuice feel a tugging. A desperate plea in the form of his name being belted into the wind.  _ ‘BEETLEJUICE!-’  _ the voice screamed before becoming drowned out, almost as if it had been blocked by something.

Beetlejuice swirled his head around, a looming black cloud hovering over the forest. Over the river. He knew that cloud. 

The looming presence of impending death.

As quick as a ghostly apparition could, he ran despite the fact he could instantly manifest anywhere. Running, quite literally, through trees and undergrowth. The swirling black river was churning when he approached it. 

A hand plunged upwards, a head following afterwards. He saw Lydia’s desperate attempts to stay afloat as she screamed out again. “BEETLEJUICE! BEETLE-” She didn’t rise again. Melting from his frozen place, he rushed forward, diving into the water after her. He swam forward, grasping an arm around her thin waist as she pulled her up towards the safety of the river bank. 

She lay limp in his arms for a moment as he desperately lowered her onto the forest floor. “Scarecrow? Lydia?! Lyds! Lyds! C’mon! Breath!” Beetlejuice pressed a hand against her chest despite knowing it was futile. He was dead. He could barely interact with the living he couldn’t save her and he knew it. 

And then she let loose a gasp, coughing up river water as she collapsed slightly into his arms. Sheer relief flooded him as he refused to let go of her arms. How she was alive, he didn’t care. “Hey kid, don’t worry, I got ya. Decided to go fer a dip did ya?” She looked so concerned, so frightened despite being in his arms.

Beetlejuice noticed that there was a multitude of scratches and cuts along her body, visible and not. Her head itself had a rather small and jagged cut above her forehead. She seemingly didn’t notice them, her body still recovering from the shock.

* * *

“I think I know who we should murder first.” He had muttered spitefully. His rage was at unmatched levels. He was even angrier than he had been the first or second time he had encountered that bitch. If he was a monster, she was the devil himself in his eyes. Beetlejuice didn’t mind the place in which Lydia sat upon him either, a devious smirk creeping up his lips. 

He wrapped his arms tighter around her, her warmth pressed against the chill of his body. “I… I don’t want to, Beej.” It was a quiet and hushed sentence, full of hesitation and concern for mortal life. Why she was suddenly defending her tormentor, Beetlejuice couldn’t quite understand.

He leaned in, peeking her on the lips. They were gaining a purplish colour, her matted and tangled hair drying on the edges of her face. Her honey coloured orbs looked at him with a calculating look. She was gripping as hard as she could to his lapels, eyes flicking from his chest to his face. Whatever she was currently thinking, Lydia was seemingly deciding to remain silent.

“You’ve gotta have a body count, babes. You’ve already got one down anyway.” Beej smirked, a singular hand removing itself as he shuffled slightly. Unbuttoning his shirt, Beetlejuice pulled it aside to show the jagged hole in the centre of his chest, partially healed. Lydia let loose a small gasp, hand darting toward it.

“Did I-Was that from the....?” She blurted out.

“Uh, yeah. Ya really did do a number on me, kid.” He was joking but there was a hint of regret in his voice. Beetlejuice did regret  _ forcing _ her into it yet he didn’t regret meeting her.

“I’m-” She let loose a yawn, stretching her arms a bit before leaning closer. “-sorry.” 

“It’s no big deal, babes.” When she had fallen asleep, he hadn’t realized. She nuzzled into his chest slightly. She was shivering against him, he could feel it. “C’mon, we’re goin’ home.” Lifting her up slowly like a bride, he manifested them back in the house, accidentally crashing into someone in the process. “OH FOR FUCKS SAKE! MOVE IT!” Beetlejuice shouted, discovering that Adam was the one in the way. Lydia shifted in his hold, her slightly warm skin brushing against his chest.

“Ah!  _ Don’t do that! _ ” Adam yelped in response, picking up the books he had been carrying. 

“How else was I gonna bring her back? Walkin’? In this state?” Adam’s face would have drained all of its colour if he had any. He looked instantly concerned, worried and mildly pissed at the same time. 

“You didn’t-”

“I did nothing of the sort! She was pushed inta the river by some bitch!” Beetlejuice was instantly defensive, face contouring into a snarl. He knew what Adam was insinuating and he was having none of it. Lydia may be his wife but Beetlejuice had morals. Strange and questionable morals but he still had them. 

“Adam, did you get those-Oh my god! You get away from her, mister!” Barbra screamed as she turned the corner, witnessing the two arguing men and the close proximity of Lydia to Beetlejuice’s unbuttoned shirt. 

“Shut it, Babs! Ya might wake her!” The demon snarled under his breath. He knew his hair was some reddish colour or something alike because Adam recoiled slightly, bumping into Barbra. “Now, if ya two pansies would stop yellin’ at me fer one second ya might actually find somethin’ out! She was pushed into the river and almost drowned! ‘N I’m gonna go make sure she gets warmed up and to bed.” He didn’t care at that point what the Maitlands would say, storming away with Lydia still in his arms. 

He flung her bedroom door open, easing her into her bed with a concerned look. Beetlejuice lowered himself on the edge of her bed, a hand idly gripping hers. He had seen too many mortals dying in his afterlife. He couldn’t lose her. No matter the cost, he would make sure that bitch paid. The irony of the fact she had almost died on a Sunday was another fact Beetlejuice was struggling to swallow.

Slowly, he got up to move, relinquishing his hold on her. Then a hand reached up, gripping his arm as her fingers pulled him close. Honey orbs opened, looking up at him. “Don’t go.” She whispered, voice hushed and croaky with sleep and soreness. He didn’t mind this though.

“Ah. Ya know I can’t say no ta ya, Lyds.” His face split into a smile as she shifted, patting the spot beside her. Without a word, he clamoured over her, resting on his side as her body was pressed against his, her head below his chin. His hands found a resting place on her boney hips, grasping them tightly as he held her with the other one. Curled up between his arms, nuzzling against his chest. 

“Thank you.” She whispered, eye gazing up his jawline. “For saving me, I mean.”

“It’s nothin’, babes.”


	6. Yer important to me.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Snow and ice can lead to aplenty illness.

Lydia could recalled that day with stunning accuracy, each detail the last reminder of her mother’s life before her impending doom. They had woken early to head to the veterinary clinic, Percy, her mother’s cat, having swallowed another battery that day. She recalled the music from the car’s speakers, the same album her mother always had playing on late winter days.

They had arrived at the clinic, the stark smell of animals and sanitizer filling her nostrils. The elderly woman with her dog, the animal wearing a cast around his leg hind-leg. The outdated magazines in the waiting room and the conversation that had ensued between her and her mother. “Mom, why did we leave so quickly? I left my gloves on the dresser.” 

“You know how Percy gets, Lydia. Don’t fuss about it, my little ghost. We’ll get it before the picnic.” They had never made it to that picnic. “You’re aunt will be so glad you're there. And your cousins too. You know we-”

“-Only see them three times a year, yes I know,” Lydia interrupted, lowering the old magazine about cats and celebrities with a sigh. “Dad doesn’t like them. You know that.” Lydia always knew that her father had hated her mother’s side of the family. They were strange and odd people and that didn’t please him. She recalled what her mother was wearing that day, a long and dark blue dress with black lace, and oversized wool coat with a matching pair of gloves. Her hair was done in a bun, curled up at the back. Percy the cat had hissed at the dog through the carrier before they had gone in.

After leaving the veterinary hospital, they had travelled down a main road. She recalled staring out the window of the backseat, Percy hissing on her other side. Percy wasn’t the nicest of cats towards Lydia. She remembered the children on the street, holding hot chocolates with adults beside them, the snowy weather making it look like a wonderful Christmas scene. The sleepy beggar hidden in an ally just out of view, the white car on her right and the couple on the sidewalk holding hands as they awkwardly moved through the snow.

She knew who was pulling up towards the street at high speed, a young man who had become high, unable to fully comprehend what he was doing. Unable to comprehend the consequences of his future actions. Unable to see the ice on the road.

Things can change in a single second. She remembered the sound of the second car crashing into the driver’s side, the crunch of metal against metal, shards of glass bursting and the cat beside her yowling. The jerking of the seat belt against her shoulders, the blood-curdling screams of passersby. The car tumbling upside down. Glasses embedding itself in her skin, her mother’s cries of pain vibrating in her ears. 

Lydia slammed the back of her head against her seat, the tingling sensation of pain stunning her for a second. Someone had pulled her door open, a dozen hands moving in to pull her out. Gloved hands pulled her out onto the snow beside the path. How she had emerged unscathed other than a few cuts was anyone’s guess. 

She could hear the panicked voices of adults and children alike, the blaring sound of the emergency services and of her own heartbeat thumping.

She couldn’t hear the cat hissing anymore. She couldn’t hear her mother’s screams anymore, either. 

Lydia had been the only one rescued from the wreckage.

They had never made it to that picnic.

* * *

Lydia jerked awake, restraining the scream that bubbled in her throat from emerging by sucking in a deep breath. She looked up to she that she was pressed against Beetlejuice, his jade eyes glancing down at her in concern. She knew she was shaking, clutching her hand close to her chest, checking for scars long healed. “Babes? You alright?” Lydia shook her head, her emotions titering on unstable. He instantly pulled her close, wrapping his large arms around her. 

She let loose a strangled sob, unable to contain it for much longer. Beetlejuice looked terrified as she clung to him with unknown sorrow, shaking and crying. “Woah, woah! What’s wrong?” She didn’t respond. 

The door was pushed open, Beetlejuice instantly raising his head to see Delia standing there. Her mouth was open, slightly smirking, at what she was seeing. Her curt surprise instantly vanished when she noticed the sobbing Lydia. He mouthed the word  _ ‘help’ _ to her, unable to understand what was really going on. The older women practically floated over, sitting on the floor beside the bed. “Hey, Lydia. Is everything okay?” 

Lydia tore her face away from Beetlejuice’s chest, tear-stained eyes staring at the dead woman by her. She shook her head, still desperately clinging to Beetlejuice. 

“Do you want to talk about it?” The teenager stared for a moment, glancing up at Beetlejuice almost as if she was asking permission. 

“C’mon. It’s just us, Scarecrow. Nuthin’ ta fear,” He slowly spoke. Lydia shakily nodded, warm hands grabbing onto Delia’s claw-like fingers. The older women just smiled.

“I… was just remembering the… crash. Dead Mom and-” She finally spoke, her voice croaky and weighted with sadness. She halted, lowering her head slightly as if she was ashamed by opening up. But that singular sentence had been enough to indicate what was wrong, Beetlejuice’s hair instantly shifting to a deep blue, mingling with white. 

“Oh, Lyds. C’mere.” He pulled her tighter, watching with restrained smugness at Delia’s narrowed expression as Lydia accepted the embrace. Her crying had stopped, sniffling a little as she just remained silent in his arms. 

He knew she had fallen asleep when her grip grew loser and her breathing became slower. She nuzzled into his chest, much to Delia’s discomfort. 

“Before ya ask, she’s asleep. She was pushed inta the river by another chick earlier. I think it messed with her a bit,” Beetlejuice whispered, trying to avoid shifting at all seeing as the teenager was practically on top of him. Not in the way he would of had it if he had his way, but it was still a rather awkward position for Delia to see them in.

“So I’ve heard. The Maitlands may, sort of, approve of you,” Delia spurted out, swiftly rising to her feet. “But sometimes, you disgust me” He rolled his eyes in response before retorting back. 

“Great ta see ya gettin’ better at compliments, Red. Can ya blame me fer wanting to spend time with my  _ wife _ ?” His mouth split into a yellow-toothed grin, sharp and demonic. He knew his hair was flickering into a colour that Delia hadn’t seen him display before due to her confused look. Stupid hair.

“She is not-”

“Yeah, she is.” He interrupted, staring at her as his smile fell slightly. Cautiously, he pulled forth his hand, displaying the golden band around it. He smiled yet again, this time, Delia looking as if she had swallowed a frog. 

“I can see that  _ you _ make her happy. And that the only reason  _ you’re _ still here.” She said curtly, nails curling into small fists as she turned towards the door. “Don’t touch her or you’ll never see the end of it,  _ Beetlejuice _ .” 

And then she left.

* * *

Lydia peered her eyes open to see the morning light filtering through her curtains, the fabricated feeling of Beetlejuice’s breathing chest rising up and down. He was asleep, curled up beside her with his arm enrapturing her body completely. It was a Wednesday morning, the cold embrace of her ghost making her shiver slightly. Shifting, her attempted to avoid waking him as she rose. But it was useless. He stirred awake, letting loose a few slurred words. “Lyds? What time is it?” He yawned, stretching like a cat in the sun.

“Six-thirty,” She murmured after checking her alarm clock, letting loose a sneeze. Beetlejuice stared at her, darting and calbouring over her bed until he pressed a ghostly hand against her forehead. She stood there slightly dazed as his expression narrowed. He ran to the door next, pulling it open and screaming down the stairway. 

“YO DELIA! I NEED YOUR BREATHER ASS UP HERE!” He hollered. It was returned by a barely audible shout, a pair of shoes clicking up the stairs. 

“What is it?” Delia peered into the bedroom, seeing Beetlejuice tapping his foot impatiently. 

“I think Lyds has a fever. But I can’t quite tell. I’m kinda dead.” He explained, avoid eye contact with the disgruntled teenager he was fussing over.

“I do not. Shut up, Beej.” She grumbled, crossing her arm before sneezing once more. “Okay, I might just have a sniffle.” Delia stepped forward and pressed a hand against her forehead, moving it to the side a bit before withdrawing. 

“You’ve got a fever. You’re staying home today. Okay, Lydia?” Delia stated, watching as Lydia dejectedly nodded back. Delia left the room, heading down the hallway to presumably tell her ghostly parental figures and her father.

“I’m not sick.” She stated a minute after Delia left, shutting the door closed with a bowed head.

“You fell into a freezing river for fucks sakes!” He shouted back, grabbing onto her arm slightly. “What did I say about that?” Beetlejuice let loose an exasperated sigh, running a hand through his pinkish-purple. Lydia lowered her head, tugging her arm away. “I can’t have ya going and getting all dead now, Scarecrow. Sickness is a painful way ta go. Yer important to me, ya hear that?” He had bent down to be level with her. 

“I know, B. I know.” There was a sly smile before Lydia grabbed him into another hug.


End file.
